80th Hunger Games
by WizMonCruWil
Summary: This one has been rattling around in my brain for quite some time. Katniss Everdeen has blossomed into a young woman at 22 years old. When her sister Prim is selected in her last Reaping for the 80th Hunger Games, Katniss must turn to Peeta Mellark, the Baker, for support. Will Katniss find love? Will Prim also find love? Enjoy, and please review!
1. Chapter 1: A Shoulder to Cry On

**Chapter 1: A Shoulder to Cry On**

I stumble out of the Justice Building in a total fog. I still can't quite believe that this day is real.

My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am 22 years old. And today, my baby sister, Primrose, was Reaped for the 80th Hunger Games. Her final Reaping, and she has been picked for almost certain death.

I blame myself, naturally. I became too complacent, after year upon year of her safely making it through unharmed. I eventually aged out of the Reaping four years ago, but still resolutely went to support my sister. Even after Mother died soon after my final Reaping.

Rory Hawthorne, Prim's boyfriend to whom she was engaged to be married, took it worse than I did. The Peacekeepers had to drag him out. Poor boy. He had bought a golden band and everything; the wedding was set for next spring.

As I stand on the Justice Building steps, dithering in my old blue Reaping dress, I happen to spy a figure hunched down on the stone beside me, head on his knees. He has ashy blonde hair, and when - after being alerted to my presence - he raises his eyes to me, I am struck by their color. Eyes as blue as a summer sky...

Peeta Mellark, the Baker, and I were classmates once in school, though we didn't speak to each other at all. We only really interacted once and it was years ago, when we were small children. I will never forget how he threw me bread in the rain while my family and I were starving.

"Did you say goodbye to Prim?" he asks me.

"Yes," I choke out the word. I don't appreciate him reminding me that I will never again see the one person whom I am certain I love.

"Me too," he admits. "Just... had to take a minute after. To gather my thoughts."

I am struck dumb by his admission. But it makes me think back to about fifteen minutes ago, when Rory and I made a run for the doors. We were informed by the Peacekeepers that someone else was saying goodbye to my sister ahead of us. I couldn't imagine who it was, and though I deeply wanted to satiate my curiosity and learn the mysterious visitor's identity, I suddenly had to really use the bathroom and asked Rory to hold my place in line. By the time I returned, he and the Peacekeeper guards were waiting for me to usher us in, the previous visitor having gone.

I stare at Peeta intensely, wondering how I can, once again, repay him the debt I feel I now owe. "Thank you," I murmur, genuinely moved. Having only managed two Victors in the past 79 years - only one of whom is embarrassingly still alive - District 12 tributes do not get many visitors on Reaping Day, outside of friends and close family. Even the relatives resign themselves to the fact that their loved ones are as good as dead.

I wonder what words Peeta spoke to my sister, but before I can hypothesize, Peeta's voice pulls me back.

"Would you like someone to stand with you? During the broadcast?" The next three days will be preparation for the arena, live on TV. Mandatory attendance and viewing, with no exceptions. Just watching the tributes paraded around in training and interviews can leave a grating edge on a person's nerves. All the more so for me now that I am a tribute's sister.

The distrustful, independent part of me wants to rebuff Peeta's offer. But the more I think about it, the more I warm to the idea. After all, Peeta and I are connected in yet another way. Six years ago, his older brother, Rye, was Reaped for the 74th Games - his last one. Died in the Bloodbath on the first day. And the year after that, the Capitol held a special edition twist on the Games that marks every twenty-fifth anniversary, called the Quarter Quell. It's supposed to check rebellion or something. The twist was that two children would be Reaped... along with a further two adults. Peeta's parents and remaining brother were selected; and his brother's wife was also Reaped to round out the numbers. Like me, Peeta is all alone, with no family. No one to even help him through watching his loved ones be brutally murdered.

Even though I'm a tough person, this moment more than any other demands that I need a shoulder to cry on. Peeta's might as well do. Daring to take his hand, I give Peeta's fingers a squeeze. "I'd appreciate that. Thank you."


	2. Chapter 2: Unspoken Understanding

**Chapter 2: Unspoken Understanding**

At long last, the tributes are going to enter the arena. My nerves are already shot, and I figure I would probably be dead or in the middle of the breakdown if Peeta had not been with me the last three days.

I was shocked and dismayed at first to discover that not only would I be watching my sister fight to the death, I would get front-row, VIP seating for it. Peeta explains it is tradition for family members of tributes to sit near the front while everyone else is made to stand. Mother and Prim and I always stood with the Seam miners towards the back, and it was difficult to see much of anything. Poor Peeta had to be treated like some perverted king two years in a row - one year all by himself!

Prim gets a forgettable training score, leaving my heart in my mouth. She does well in her interview, but the only kind of positive spin she receives is sympathy. Despite her age, people view her as anywhere from too pretty to too sweet to win the Games. Not to mention the Career tributes all eye her as a snack. My stomach churns.

Now, sitting with Peeta in the front row (the Peacekeepers were gracious enough to bend the rules for him, so he could stay with me. Perhaps they think it's noble to want to protect a lady), I watch as the tributes rise up in a frozen wasteland.

The final minute counting down to the Games begins. The monkey cam finally projects Prim onto the jumbotron, and I can sense the fear in her eyes, even as she does an admirable job of masking it from everyone else.

I notice her contemplating her one district token - Mother's pearl necklace, which I had given to her after the Reaping. Suddenly, she rips the jewelry from her neck so that some of the individual pearls come apart and off the chain, and she tosses the lot high into the air.

KABOOM. KABOOM. KABOOM. The pearls set off the land mines under the tribute pedestals around Prim's, land mines which are planted to keep a tribute from moving from its pedestal too early. Even if a pearl does not land near a pedestal, the others exploding begin to set off a chain reaction. I find myself burrowing into Peeta's shoulder, covering my ears when -

A forcefield is thrown up, judging by the hum we can hear from the screen, the Gamemakers desperately trying to salvage their Games before it even starts. But it's too late. When the smoke clears, 22 tributes lie in scattered remains across the frozen tundra. Aside from Primrose (I cry in relief that she lives), the only survivor is the boy from District 2, who looks like he was thrown clear from his pedestal. One arm and one leg have been blown off, so he can only pathetically crawl towards the loot at the Cornucopia.

Intact, Primrose almost strolls to the horn, seizes the nearest blade and bears down upon her last competition. The Career bravely tries to block her with his remaining hand, but my sister brings the sword down upon his skull and he crumples at her feet.

A tense silence. And then -

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM... I carefully count as 23 cannons are painstakingly sounded out. Finally, a clearly shaken Claudius Templesmith comes over the loudspeaker:

"Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the 80th Hunger Games: Primrose Everdeen of District 12!"

The square erupts in cheers. Primrose is the Victor! The third Victor from District 12. She beat the Games in her own ingenious way! Forgetting myself, I exuberantly throw my arms around Peeta in a crushing hug.

After a moment, we pull back. Our gazes intensely lock as we stare into each other's eyes. An unspoken understanding passes between us, and next moment, we close the gap. Embracing, the Baker and I share a long, relieved kiss.

I am horrible at it, kissing. Especially since this is my very first. But Peeta holds me gently, and makes up for the both of us, deepening the liplock so that I begin to forget where I am, or whom I am kissing, or that my friends and neighbors might see. I close my eyes, lashes fluttering shut, and surrender. Who cares who might notice?

Fortunately, the moment is all our own, as Peeta and I lose ourselves in the kiss.

* * *

I have never been alive for a Parcel Day before. But Mother was, recalling the brightly colored packages and feasts thrown when Haymitch Abernathy won the Victor's Crown thirty years ago. She was only a teenager then, and used to tell us about District 12's triumph in the Second Quarter Quell when I was a little girl.

Now, standing with Peeta and Rory on the train platform to welcome the locomotive bearing Prim home from the Capitol, I watch as huge parcels stuffed with valuable food delicacies rain down from planes in the heavens, parachuting into the ecstatic hands of small children - many of whom have never known what it is like to have a decent meal. Fireworks are set off, their shrieks piercing as they whizz and explode above us in the nighttime sky.

As the train finally steams into the District 12 station, I feel Peeta clasp his hand in mine and give it a squeeze. Daring to smile, I squeeze back.

Prim bounds off the train even before Haymitch, and into the arms of her fiancé, the pair soon kissing madly and with a wedding and Toasting to plan once again. Inspired, and perhaps feeling a little mischevious, I suddenly turn to Peeta, my expression no-nonsense.

"Kiss me," I demand.

Peeta gapes. "In front of your sister and Rory?"

I run out of patience and make the first move, slinging a hand around Peeta's neck and pulling his lips down to mash against mine in a heated kiss. I close my eyes, enjoying it. I feel Peeta's hands encircle my waist, and I boldly hitch my thigh up to his hips, hooking my leg around his torso, so that the hem of my blue dress rides up my calf, revealing creamy white skin.

Peeta and I are kissing with tongue, our mouths practically down each other's throats before we get a hold of ourselves. Tenderly, we break apart with a still-new love in our eyes.

Turning around, I see my baby sister gaping at me in astonishment. Rory looks just as flummoxed, and I laugh at having garnered the reaction I wanted. I am not above playing a practical joke on anyone.

Even if my love and attraction for Peeta is all too real.

* * *

I don't put up much of a fight in Prim's and my brief bickering over who should wear Mother's wedding dress. Prim was the first one to get engaged, and my engagement has been more recent and whirlwind anyhow. Peeta shocked me when he proposed marriage, but still grateful to him for being my rock during the Games, and realizing how long he has been in love with me, and how I have fallen in love with him, I say Yes. Besides, I am a simple woman in my tastes, and I feel that marrying my husband-to-be in my blue Reaping dress is lovely enough.

Peeta and I, along with Prim and Rory, hold a double wedding and Toasting, in the Everdeen living room. Peeta Toasts his piece of bread masterfully, and we each feed a piece to each other. My grey orbs dancing in the firelight, and with an intense look of love, I tilt my head and permit my new husband to kiss me. Our wedding kiss. Entering marriage is scary and new for me, considering I once vowed to never wed, never mind bear any children. But with a sweet, honest man like Peeta, I feel like we will be OK.

And I have my sister and new brother-in-law with me. A family. We have each other.


End file.
